The party ordered their meals and another bottle of Sangiovese, and the waiter retreated silently to the kitchen, beaming. When he stepped through the swinging door, the smile slipped from his face like egg from a non-stick pan.

“Two shrimp ‘n’ grits, medium-rare hangar steak and an oriental chicken salad, dressing on the side,” he called to the cook. His manager was leaning on the counter, frowning.

“Why do the white people always think you’re black?” he said.

“I guess ‘cause I am black?”

“Yeah, but ain’t you from India or some shit?”

“Bangalore. So?”

“So why do you play along?”

The waiter laughed.

“Same reason I tell my mother I’m still in school. Same reason you tell your wife you still love her. People like simple lies better than complicated truths. They feel good when things fit their expectations…” he smiled. “And when people feel good, they tip better.”

The manager shook his head.

“Well cut it out with the ‘my mommas’ and the ‘yessirs’,” he said. “That shit’s offensive.”

The waiter laughed.

“Yessir.”

This is my story for this week’s Trifecta Writing Challenge: Crude. I honestly don’t know what I think of it, so I’m relying on you all to tell me what you think. At least it’s different from my regular stuff, right? Right!? Le sigh.

I had a friend in my younger days who used to always fall in love with the waitresses and barmaids at the local establishments we would frequent. They would smile their smiles at him, he would fall into a stupor and they would, quite literally, help themselves to the content of his wallet. Every time, though, he would go home happy and satisfied and would return promptly the very next Friday or Saturday night. Some folks are just born suckers, as you have so capably pointed out in your excellent post. 🙂

You do a great job of capturing character in just a few words, from your canny protagonist, to the bemused chef, to the pompous git of a senator (love that “solemn as a sermon” line). I love your writing style and look forward to reading more of your stories.